Two Dreams
by Arallute
Summary: Nine year-old Ben Solo awakens from a nightmare about a bridge, and is comforted by his father. "There is nothing like wounded affection for giving poignancy to anger." ― Elizabeth Gaskell
"But even though I was with my father again, I never felt really secure deep down. I don't know how to put it exactly, but things were never really settled inside me. I always had this feeling like, I don't know, like somebody was putting something over on me, like my real father had disappeared forever and, to fill the gap, some other guy was sent to me in his shape."
― Haruki Murakami, After Dark

* * *

 **Hosnian Prime, 14 ABY**

Han Solo was dreaming of a baby girl. He was holding her in his arms, a sweet-smelling little bundle wrapped in a rough, sand-colored blanket. _This baby blanket is too harsh for her skin,_ he thought. _And the color's all wrong. We should get our princess something pretty._

He felt a wave of love for this girl come over him and tried, in a choked voice, to tell her how important she already was to him. But instead, he just cooed, "I've been thinking about taking on some more crew. A second mate. Would you like that?" The baby smiled toothlessly at him, hopeful brown eyes round as saucers.

A shriek woke him up. Han jerked his arms up and instinctively looked over at his wife, sleeping beside him. She stirred, then opened her eyes.

"That wasn't you?" he asked Leia. Usually, she was the one who had the nightmares.

She shook her head and concentrated a moment. "Ben," she whispered. "I'll go." She sat up heavily, her swollen belly reminding Han of his dream.

"No, no, stay put. I'll take care of him. You just…take care of you." He caressed her tummy and kissed his unborn daughter through Leia's nightgown before heading for Ben's room.

Ben was thrashing on his bed, clawing the blankets. _Exactly like Leia,_ Han thought. _But what horrors can a nine year-old have in his head?_

"Ben, sweetie, wake up," he encouraged his son, lifting him to a sitting position. He hugged Ben tightly. "Please wake up."

Ben stopped sobbing and went very still. "Dad?" he said in a small voice. He looked up, tears shining in his dark eyes.

Han sat back slightly, brushed the hair out of Ben's face and smiled confidently. "Hi there," he said gently. "You're okay. Just a bad dream. Nothin' to worry about."

The images came tumbling out of the child. "I was on a bridge. A skinny bridge, no guard rails, over a black sea. No, it was a black floor. A shiny black floor. But I wasn't scared of falling off the bridge."

Han continued to hug his son, and tried to speak reassuringly. "No, you'd never fall. Your balance is better than a Spukamas, isn't it? You wouldn't fall. What were you scared of, then?"

He sniffled into his father's soft shirt. "You were there with me, and I was scared _you_ were going to fall off the bridge. But I was angry at you, so part of me wanted you to fall. And you were little, like me. Or I was tall, maybe. I was as tall as you. And I was really angry, and sad, and frustrated. I didn't know what I wanted you to do, but I needed you to do something. I knew you didn't love me, but I wanted you to." He ran out of breath, and looked up at his dad. "It didn't really make much sense."

"Well, dreams sometimes make no sense at all. I just had a weird dream about trying to hire a baby as a copilot." He grinned crookedly, but stopped when he realized Ben was still close to tears. His face grew serious and he held his son's gaze. "You know I love you. I'll always love you. Right?"

Ben nodded. "In the dream, I knew you had stopped loving me because I'd been so bad."

"That would _never_ happen."

Ben paused in thought. "Are you going to love the new baby?"

"Sure I will."

"More than me?"

Han searched his son's face. "No. Love isn't like that. You don't have to stop loving one person in order to love someone else. I love all three of you, all the same."

"You don't love Anakin more than you love me?"

 _Where is he getting this?_ "No," Han said patiently. "Maybe sometimes it seems like he gets away with more, 'cause he's just four, so we don't expect as much from him as we do from you." He paused, checking for some sort of positive reaction. "You're my big boy, so I treat you more like a man."

"It's not that. It just seems like…Ani's more like you. He wants to be a pilot, like you. And he likes flying and fixing stuff on the _Falcon_ and talking about tech things. And I don't wanna do any of that, and I feel…" He drifted off, then finished in a heartbroken whisper. "Like I'm a big disappointment to you."

Han's jaw dropped. He just sat there perched on the edge of Ben's narrow bed, staring dumbly at his nine year-old for several heartbeats. Finally, he found his voice.

"You are _not_ a disappointment to me. You never have been," he said firmly. He looked straight into Ben's eyes, to make sure he was listening. Then Han continued in a more relaxed tone of voice, "You know, I've been walking around this galaxy with myself for forty-three years now, and I'm gettin' pretty bored with me. So why would I only want to be around people who are just like I am? I mean, don't you think it's more interesting to meet other kinds of people?"

Ben nodded tentatively. "Yeah, maybe."

"It definitely is. And I'll tell you something else. The person I choose to be around more than anyone else in the whole galaxy is—can you guess who?"

"Mom."

"Mom, that's right. I have to be with myself all day long, and I couldn't get Chewie to leave me alone if I tried to, but I _chose_ your mom. She's my best friend. And you know who in the galaxy is the most like your mom?"

Ben tilted his head. He'd never thought about this one. "Uncle Luke?"

"No, try again. Someone who likes political stuff and visiting new planets and tries to get along with all kinds of people and do the Force stuff."

Ben blinked. "Me?"

Han smiled at his son. "That's right, you. You're so much like her. You're right, Ani's got a lot in common with me, but you're like a little miniature version of my favorite person of all time. Except your hair is shorter," he added, tousling Ben's sleep-mussed curls.

Ben smiled. He felt a lot better. "But," he mused, "wouldn't you rather talk to Ani about ship stuff than talk to me about diplomacy stuff?"

 _How did this kid get so perceptive? Oh, right. Leia._ "Sometimes," Han admitted, "if I'm in the mood to talk about the ship, I'll go to Ani. But every relationship is different, Ben. Everyone has things they like to talk about with just one or two people." He leaned his chin in his hand. "You know, that question you just asked, that's a really smart question. You're very smart. Like your mom. So if I want to discuss feelings, or difficult topics, you're my guy. I'll come to you for that." His voice dropped a little. "And can I tell you a secret?"

Ben leaned forward. "Uh-huh."

"Since you're the one who's most like your mom, I promise I'll always love you just a tiny little bit more than your brother or your new sister, just as long as you never tell anyone except yourself." Han waved his hand between the two of them, conspiratorially. "This is just between us two, right?"

"Right," he whispered.

"And no matter how many kids your mom and I have, you'll always be our eldest. The first born is a very important position in every culture in the whole galaxy. Very important." Han paused. "You know, to tell you the truth, I'm a little nervous about having a girl. I don't know how to talk to girls."

Ben tilted his head again. "You're pretty good with mom."

Han laughed at that. "Well, sometimes. I guess I can talk to women. But, uh, I meant little girls. They're kinda…"

"Weird," Ben finished.

Han nodded grimly. "Yeah. Weird. So I'm gonna need a lot of help; I'll need a diplomat like you to negotiate between me and her. And I need you to watch that crazy little brother of yours, so he doesn't break any more bones or get lost or anything."

"Mom says he's a scoundrel."

"Huh." He shrugged innocently. "Yeah, I don't know where he gets that."

"From you," said the boy knowingly.

"Oh, yeah?" Han knitted his brows. "Aren't you supposed to have respect for your father?" he asked in mock seriousness.

Ben raised one eyebrow and crossed his arms in front of him, in the style of an Alderaanian royal. "Are you saying you're not a troublemaker?"

"No," Han said defensively. "But it's almost three in the morning, and I'm too tired to win this argument, so you're going back to sleep now." He fluffed the pillow. Obediently, Ben lay down and let himself be tucked in and kissed on the forehead.

Before leaving the room, Han added one last comment. "Benny, about that dream of yours? If you ever find yourself on a scary bridge, you just ask me for help, okay? I'll cross it with you."

Ben wanted very much to be soothed by his father's words. But he lay uneasily awake in bed for the rest of the night.


End file.
